Chapter 21
She flinched.
“Do you think lenders discovering ownership contradictions after another billion dollars goes into the project would protect those families?”
“Damian can fix it.”
“Then let him fix it.”
“You are standing in the way.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“The question is standing in the way.”
Celeste looked suddenly older.
“What do you want him to do?”
“Tell the truth.”
“And if the truth destroys him?”
I thought about that.
Not the company.
Him.
Her son.
The boy who watched his father fight creditors.
The man who built himself into something so hard that eventually he could not tell strength from control.
“That depends on what the truth is,” I said.
Celeste closed her eyes briefly.
When she opened them, the fight had left her.
“You really loved him.”
It was not a question.
“Yes.”
“Do you still?”
That one hurt.
“I do not know what part of him I would be loving.”
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then she walked away.
Sunday evening, Mara called.
“Independent committee wants to speak with you.”
“Why?”
“They want context for how you found the conflicting documents.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Will Damian be there?”
“No.”
I agreed.
The interview lasted three hours.
Four attorneys.
Two board members.
One forensic accountant.
A recorder on the table.
They asked how I found the first page.
Where it had been.
When I had seen the other schedule.
Who I told.
Whether Damian instructed me to conceal anything.
He had not.
Whether I had ever participated in preparing Harbor Crown documents.
Only informally, years earlier, when Damian’s assistants occasionally asked me to organize background material for home meetings.
Whether I had accessed systems after losing authorization.
No.
Whether I hated Damian.
That question came from one of the board members.
Mara objected.
I answered anyway.
“No.”
The room went still.
The board member raised an eyebrow.
“You do not?”
“I hated the way he treated me.”
I folded my hands.
“Those are not the same thing.”
He studied me.
“Why provide these materials on the day of your divorce?”
“Because before that day, Damian still controlled nearly every practical part of my life.”
“Was timing intended to hurt him?”
“It was intended to protect me.”
“Why?”
“Because I expected retaliation.”
“On what basis?”
I told them about the accounts.
The apartment.
My father’s loan.
Mara placed the documents showing the acquisition and subsequent transfer on the table.